


We Want Whoever to Call Or Not Call, a Touch, a Kiss

by kahootqueen69



Category: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ambulance Service, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blow Jobs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:21:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25343863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kahootqueen69/pseuds/kahootqueen69
Summary: Francis Crozier has been working for the Ambulance Service for quite some time, as of late mainly training new employees. Insert James Fitzjames from control room, whom he hates passionately.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames
Comments: 32
Kudos: 60





	1. So It Begins

**Author's Note:**

> All medical knowledge I possess comes from watching Ambulance and 24 Hours In A&E, so I apologize for any mistakes on my part! That said, I do hope you enjoy reading :)

Francis Crozier had been a paramedic for most of his adult life and knew just about everything of the job. He knew what it took to be one, had seen many come and go who didn’t live up to the standards and stress of it, and took pride in the fact that he’d been able to do it for so long, hoping to do it for longer still. Being a paramedic wasn’t an easy job, demanding a lot of both physical and mental health.

Francis’ body was much alike to a sea captain’s; a sturdy, commanding build that hid its muscle strength under a layer of softness—that, if Francis allowed it, put anyone who approached at ease. If the circumstances required it, he could easily take the lead by dominating the presence in the room, squaring his shoulders and letting his decisive voice direct people this way and that, telling them what to do or what to pay attention to.

Like all who saved other people’s lives for a living, he had seen his fair share of disturbing scenes. There had been enough milder distress calls or kind souls to soften the blow, but it was always the harder ones that stayed with you the longest and drove many people away from the job. You had to have an outlet, a coping mechanism or someone to talk to who understood—or, if not fully, at least partially—to keep pushing yourself to go on. Francis understood that.

Thomas Blanky had always been that person—and his best friend—for Francis, and still was to this day. Blanky had been his long-time partner on the job for most of the years he’d been with the Ambulance Service, until that fateful day the old rascal had lost a leg on a call gone wrong. They’d gotten a case of a stabbing where the culprit was thought to have fled and had rushed in to aid the victim, only to find that the scene wasn’t safe at all and had gotten ambushed. Francis had managed to fight the guy and scare him off, leaving him to tend to both their patient and Thomas until Police and backup could arrive. They’d needed to amputate his leg at the hospital, and he now walked about on a fancy-looking prosthetic one. Francis had begged him to come back and join him on the ambulance again, but he’d thought it well enough and decided on an early retirement.

Ever since then, Francis had been stuck with the rookies as his partner, most of them not cut out for the job or being replaced to work with others on the team, leaving Francis available to be partnered with yet another newbie. He’d complained about it to the supervisors and bosses often enough, but always got the same answer: he was one of the most—if not _the most_ —experienced on the crew, and deemed the most suitable to pass on the knowledge. _My arse,_ he’d thought plenty of times, though that didn’t bring any change to the matter whatsoever either.

***

It wasn’t uncommon for the ambulance crews to be paired with the same person from the control room multiple times over a certain period, as their shifts and schedules often intertwined on a regular basis. Each, on either side of the Ambulance Service, had their favourite and least favourite to be paired with for the shift, though usually there wasn’t any real animosity between anyone.

Except for Francis Crozier, of course.

The only person he could get on with even in the _slightest_ was Thomas Jopson; to Francis, the lad always sounded like one of those extremely naïve boys thinking too good of the world, not having seen anything beyond the safety of the Ambulance Service’s control room, though he always seemed to genuinely care for Francis, asking after him or the patient after they got a job done and crossed off the list. That had put the boy in a good spot in Francis’ books. There were others that were okay, but nothing more than that; Jopson, for example, seemed to like a guy named Edward Little very much and always spoke of him fondly, though whenever Francis was paired with him he thought him terribly dull and overly anxious.

The sentiments were quite the opposite on the control room’s side. All seemed to get along splendidly with everyone on the ambulances; except for Crozier. Apart from Jopson, no one particularly liked the grumpy bastard nowadays. Some of the older crew who had still worked with Francis when he was partnered up with Blanky sometimes shared stories of how he used to be much more lively—liked, even—before he lost his joy after that one particular job. Not many of the others really cared, just thought the man a prick and a pain in the arse to work with. Though there were some interested.

One of those was James Fitzjames. He had never seen the man, only heard him over the crackling connection between his headset and Crozier’s ambulance. He’d gotten paired with him on the first day of the job, some two years ago now, and had gotten well-wishes from everyone when they heard who he was teamed up with for the night. After hearing that low, annoyed, tired-with-life voice thick with an Irish accent, he’d only gotten more curious. There was something mysterious about that man, James knew it in his bones; he always had a certain type of feeling about things like that.

‘Weird fellow, isn’t he?’ Dundy, his best mate, had said after James’ first shift.

‘Oh, I don’t know. I feel like there’s… _something else_ …about that guy,’ he had responded, a quizzical look on his face.

‘Well, don’t get too intrigued.’ Dundy had warned him. ‘He’s not a particularly nice guy. Wouldn’t want to spend an entire shift stuck in the same ambulance with him.’

And intrigued did James get. After two years or so he’d heard almost every story about him that he could wring out of the old-timers in the control room. He just couldn’t wrap his head around the damned man. There were plenty of stories roaming around of Francis doing the most heroic things, not wanting to give up on a situation or person even when the other paramedics begged him to, telling him it was over only to continue to save someone’s life, or arm, or mind. He’d heard multiple retellings of when he and Blanky had gotten ambushed and Blanky lost the leg, all telling him he changed after that, though nothing more. After that there were only the other younger ones telling him how much they hated Crozier and his shit moods and constant whining about life and gruesome critiques and insults flung at their heads. Sure, James had gotten his fair share of Crozier’s insults and grumpy remarks flung at him over the line, though he _still_ couldn’t quite place his finger on why the man fascinated him so.

He was determined to find out, though.

***

‘You’re not seriously thinking about doing this, Jas.’

At seeing that all too familiar knowing, slightly mischievous, look in James’ eyes, Dundy exhaled a heavy sigh, pausing the ravishing of his overladen Subway sandwich.

‘I can’t possibly understand why you’re so intrigued by the guy. He’s an arse and hates everything good life throws at him!’

James raised his chin an inch and lifted an eyebrow, exhaling and patiently closing his book before taking another deep breath in. ‘I’m telling you, there’s _something_ about that man—’

‘—Doesn’t mean you have to go this far to try and prove it!’ Dundy interrupted. ‘Jeez, Jas.’

‘Oh don’t act like that! You know I’ve always been interested.’

Dundy put the sandwich back down in the little basket and ran a hand over his face, exhaling another great, big sigh. ‘This isn’t some joke, though, Jas. You have to seriously think about this, it ain’t the same.’

‘I know, I know!’ James threw his hands up in the air in defence. ‘And I have!’

‘Have you really?’ Dundy gave him an incredulous look, knowing exactly what he’s like.

James gave him a solemn nod, looking more serious than Dundy had maybe ever seen him. ‘Really. Trust me, Dundas, I’ve thought it through. Now finish up that bloody sandwich before I finish my book, we still have to go by the office to get everything in order.’

‘Hey, whoa. This sandwich is not to be rushed down, okay? It is to be savoured. Every. Single... Bite…...’ He raised the sappy thing to his mouth in slow-motion, taking possibly an entire minute to take a bite out of it, moaning obscenely around the bread and the tuna dripping from the sides.

James made a disgusted face and threw a napkin to his face. ‘Brute.’


	2. The Feisty One And The Illustrious Fop

‘ _I’M WORKING WITH WHO?!_ ’

The roar was audible throughout multiple hallways and floors of the administrative building, shaking the very floor beneath their feet.

‘Not happening! Find some other bloody ape willing to drive with him!’ Francis yelled, his face looking as red as if it were a cartoonish bomb about to explode, which probably wasn’t far from the truth anyway.

‘Francis, you bloody well know what uncle John thinks about this! You’re just gonna have to put up with it. What’s this one so different from all the other ones you trained?’ Sophia shot back with a frustrated look.

‘He’s an illustrious fop! Can’t talk about anything else than himself and his own adventures instead of the fucking job, acting like the high and mighty Himself while he’s not even been out on the field for a second!’

‘Then it’s all the better that he’s wanting to do so, isn’t it? Jesus, Francis! He’s showing interest in your damn job, and you know we need the personnel.’

‘He just wants another adventure to string an exciting tale out of,’ Francis sneered, his lip curling in disgust. ‘He’s not interested in anything but making himself look good.’

Sophia pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘Just train him, for God’s sake.’ She waved her and in frustration and let it fall to wooden surface of her desk. ‘Do your job and he’ll be out of your hair in no time. I’ll assign him to someone else _personally_ after he’s finished his training, if that makes you feel any better.’

Francis scoffed and dug his nails into his palms, throwing an angry look at the ceiling. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ he muttered under his breath.

‘I am not. And neither is uncle John.’

Francis looked surprised she heard that for a moment before he threw her an acidic look. _That fucking Franklin and his god-damned favourite little snob._ Of course it had to be him. Franklin had always been out to fuck him over, it seemed, though this really was a step too far. He screwed his eyes shut tight and took a deep, shaky breath, clenching his fists even tighter before releasing both fists and breath.

‘Fine. I’ll train him. And then he can get the bloody hell out of my ambulance.’

‘Thank you. That wasn’t that hard, now was it?’

Francis tilted his head in a way that clearly told Sophia to say no more and stormed out of the tiny office, regretting the impulsive decision instantly as he heard the door smack into the wall _hard,_ drawing a startled gasp form Sophia behind him. He walked briskly down the corridor anyway, not turning back or throwing a glance over his shoulder, determined to get this night over with as quickly as possible. And the next, and those following. _Oh, God._

He stormed into the garage where the ambulances were parked, making a strangled noise of discomfort at the back of his throat when he saw the tall, obnoxious idiot was leaning against the hood of his ambulance.

‘Ah, there he is!’ Came the deep, sand-roughened sounding voice, followed by a shit-eating grin spreading across his lips. ‘The famed Francis Crozier! I’ve heard a lot about you in the control room.’ He held out his hand, ‘James Fitzjames.’

 _He’s even worse in person than on the other end of the line._ ‘Sure you have,’ Francis grumbled, purposefully ignoring James’ outstretched hand. Instead opening the door to the side of the ambulance, fumbling around in a cabinet and pulling out a uniform, throwing the bundle of clothes in James’ arms. ‘Put this on. Should fit your thin-as-a-twig frame.’

James raised an eyebrow in a daring manner, eyeing Francis over from head to toe, earning him a scowl. ‘Well, where do I change?’

Francis rolled his eyes and nodded towards the vehicle, ‘You can change in the back this time, and _only_ this time. Next time you show up in your uniform or you won’t be driving with me.’

Before James could retort with some smart remark, Francis stepped up to slide onto the driver’s seat and slammed the door closed behind him, busying himself with checking some stuff on the dashboard and the checklist he kept close to his seat at all times.

***

 _You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?_ James thought back to the look on Francis’ face when he fumbled open the back door of the ambulance, marvelling at the look of its inside for a moment when the lights flickered on with something alike to a childish sort of glee, before stepping in and pulling the door closed again. It wasn’t very cramped as he had maybe thought it would be, though it didn’t exactly leave much space to change out of his clothes and into the paramedics’ uniform. As he was doing that, he was taking everything in with a good look. He’d done the necessary trainings before becoming a control room operator, and some extras for becoming an actual paramedic before he’d asked for a transfer, so he knew pretty much what everything was used for or where certain things were shelved, but it was still all very new and exciting. A shame, really, that there wasn’t a mirror anywhere close, he was sure he looked good in that uniform, seemingly perfectly fitted to his shape.

***

Francis almost choked on his coffee when he accidentally caught a glance in the back mirror of James stripping off his clothes to change into the uniform through the little window separating them. _Maybe he isn’t as thin as a twig after all,_ Francis thought as he was eyeing the gentle but pleasant-looking slopes of the muscles under James’ skin. _Still a pretentious little bastard, though._ He tore his eyes away from the sight with a loud gulp of coffee flowing down his throat, turning his attention back to the checklist as best as he could manage.

He heard the back door slam closed a second time and waited to see the door to his side open in the corner of his eye. _Just take a deep, calming breath and get this over with as fast and best you can, Crozier. Better to do it well and quick so he can get out of your hair._

‘Right,’ he said as James clambered onto the seat next to him, looking around at all the buttons and screens. ‘I presume you went through some training so you should know about the equipment and medical supplies.’ He looked over to James for a nod of confirmation and handed over the checklist. ‘Every time before we head out and when we come back, we make sure we’re stocked up on every single thing that’s on this list, got it? It’s one of the most vital things we have absolute control over.’

‘I take it you’ve already gone over everything on the list, then?’

A nod from Francis. ‘I’ll go over everything again with you once we get back from the shift, alright?’  
He put the key in the ignition and started the engine, flicking a couple switches and pressing a few buttons, turning on their intercom systems. ‘Now, since I’ll be driving you’re going to have to communicate with control, you know how to do that?’

‘I’ve been on the other side of the line plenty of times before, Francis,’ James smirked, earning him an eyeroll from Francis. He picked up the receiver and hovered his thumb over a button. ‘You press this here and you can talk, right? Just like a walkie-talkie.’

Francis nodded, ‘Good. At least I don’t have to lay out all the codes and their meanings to you.’ He paused as he looked James over with a slight frown, trying to decide whether he’d be up for the job or give up like the rest of them after tonight. James gave him a puzzled but determined look in return, leaning over towards the touchscreen window to press some buttons, sending a signal to the control room that said they were ready and available for duty.

‘Right,’ Francis cleared his throat. ‘We’re number four-four-three-four tonight, go ahead and announce us.’

James smiled that damned grin as he pressed down on the button, looking just a bit too similar to a giddy child getting his first phone for Francis’ taste. ‘Four-four-three-four here, ready for battle.’

 _Dear Lord, this is going to be a long night._ Francis ran a hand over his face as they waited for a response, hoping desperately it was someone he could get along with for the shift.

‘You know,’ James started, ‘I once had to be airlifted to hospital after I made a nasty fall, up in the mountains.’

‘Did you, now?’ Francis grumbled.

‘Yeah.’ James was beaming with joy, like this was some gracious story about how he discovered the Northwest Passage or something. ‘I was feeling really woozy, being all drugged up on one of those whistles, but it was all very exciting. The way those people kept their calm and knew exactly what to do, showing so much bravery to get me to that hospital—That really made me want to be a paramedic, to be entirely honest with you. But that trip to the mountains left me a nasty double break in my leg which took some time to heal, so I had to settle for the control room. Don’t get me wrong, that takes a lot of courage as well, but—’

The intercom crackled back to life—thankfully, for Francis—interrupting James’ story. ‘Good afternoon, four-four-three-one,’ came Jopson’s voice. ‘All received, thank you. I have a job for you in a minute, have a good shift!’

‘Thank you, you too,’ James replied.

Francis gave him a curt nod and slowly pulled out of their parking spot, waiting for the sensors to pick them up and open the garage door for them. ‘Now, since a scene can be either totally calm or extremely chaotic, you’re going to listen to everything I tell you to do. If you do that, everything will be fine and we’ll get whoever needs our help to hospital in no time.’ He drove out and waited on a spot for the job to come through, slurping his coffee.

‘Yes, sir. Want me in the back?’

Francis choked on his coffee for the second time that shift. ‘Excuse me?’

James gave him an incredulous and amused look, ‘When we pick someone up, do you want me to tend to them or d’you want me to drive?’

Francis could feel his face going red, his cheeks probably feeling hot to the touch. ‘Uh, no. I’ll drive. We’ll switch places once we’re halfway through the night.’

‘Four-four-three-four,’ Jopson’s voice crackled back over the connection. ‘I’ve got a job for you. Eighty-year-old lady who’s fallen down the stairs and can’t get back up on her feet. Poor thing.’

James picked the receiver back up and tapped some things on the screen in front of him. ‘Got it, thank you. We’ll head over now.’ He looked back at the screen and waited for the address to come through to put it into the GPS system.

 _At least he’s paid attention to the trainings,_ Francis thought as he watched him work, seemingly knowing where everything was and what he needed to do. The address and more additional info came through and Francis drove them onto the main road, following the GPS’ instructions. He may have driven an ambulance for over thirty years, but London’s streets forever seemed to change every few weeks, another added here and there or closed by roadblocks.

‘Eighty years old, fallen down the stairs, possible hip-injury,’ James read from the screen as they hobbled about a bit on some uneven patches or road. ‘So… Get the bag, get the stretcher in front and… a scoop stretcher to carry her from inside the house to outside?’

‘Exactly. I don’t think she’ll be able to hop over to the ambulance if she can’t even sit up. I’ll get the bag and we can both take the stretcher.’

‘Alright.’ James looked out the window, biting the inside of his cheeks and fidgeting with the cord of the receiver and his fingers. He didn’t speak a word, going over all the possible things that could be wrong with the lady.

Francis eyed him and his fumbling for a minute, not very trusting of this sudden silence. ‘Are you nervous, James?’

James snapped his head back towards Francis, needing a couple seconds for the words to register. ‘Hmm? Uh, a little.’

‘Well, get over it. I need you to be completely focussed when we get there.’

***

 _Why was he being such an arse?_ James didn’t get it. Surely it’s only human to be a little nervous on one’s first day on the job. Hell, even Francis must have been when he first started… right?

James thought he’d done alright; he didn’t drop anything or say the wrong thing, in fact, he thought he’d quite entertained the woman while they tended to her. Once they had been able to get the poor thing on the stretcher and wheeled into the back of the ambulance and made comfortable, she’d become a lot more chatty.

‘You really are a dear. Couldn’t ask for someone better to come and help me,’ she’d smiled as James put another pillow behind her head and threw a blanket over her lap.

‘Oh really? Why, thank you very much,’ James smiled back kindly, making sure she was comfortable enough. He sat back in the seat attached to the side and picked up the pen and paperwork he was expected to fill out.

‘Really, you’ve done such a good job.’

‘Well that’s very nice to hear. It’s my first day on the job.’

The woman gasped softly and looked at him with a surprised look in her eyes. ‘Really? No, you’re joking.’

‘Promise I’m not,’ James chuckled, ‘it’s all very exciting.’

‘You must be a natural, then. I wouldn’t have guessed that in a million years! You both are a good team, I always have a feeling about such things,’ she winked with a laugh.

‘Hear that, Francis? We’re a good team,’ James called to Francis through the little window. Francis only made a grunting noise as confirmation, turning back to his driving.

She pointed back at Francis with a finger, nodding in his direction. ‘He’s a bit of a grump, isn’t he?’ She said with a mischievous little chuckle.

‘Mmn, oh yes. He can be,’ James grinned. He leaned in a bit more and lowered his voice to just above a whisper. ‘Though I think there’s more to him. I’ve heard some stories,’ he winked.

The elderly woman clasped a hand over her mouth as her shoulders shook with soft laughter, joined by James who couldn’t contain a chuckle.

After they’d wheeled her into A&E to be treated for her injuries and filled out the remainder of the paperwork, they got another coffee and tea and made their way back to the ambulance. Francis hadn’t said a thing the entire ride, apart from relaying the necessary information to the nurses in A&E.

‘Do you enjoy taking the piss with me, James?’ Francis seethed, his lips pressed together in an angry, thin line, his hands gripping the steering wheel.

James frowned, ‘Excuse me?’

‘You know exactly what I’m talking about. Giggling and laughing, making jokes about me.’

‘Please tell me you’re kidding.’ James gave him an incredulous look, raising his brows. ‘She was having an innocent laugh and I was just there to make sure she was feeling as good as she possibly could be. She meant well, Francis.’

Francis looked like he was about to yell a series of insults at him, gripping the steering wheel even tighter to the point where James thought he might pulverise it to bits or even dust in his hands. James decided it was probably best not to say anything and just turned his focus back on his tea, sipping it slowly as he kept an eye on Francis from the corner of his eye.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Francis took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down, relaxing his grip and shoulders.

‘Right. Can I change our status to available again?’ James said, giving him an indecipherable, almost cold, look.

Francis grunted an affirmation and switched his lights on; it had gotten dark quickly since they set out.

‘Good.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention in the previous chapter's end notes that this fic is written and finished! I'll post a new chapter every Friday x
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/kahootqueen69) :)


	3. An Understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really the sole reason why I had to change the archive warnings. Personally, I don't think it's that bad, but just to be sure: this is your warning if you're at all bothered by such things.

‘So? How’d it go?’

James groaned, flopping back down on the sofa. ‘Absolutely awful. Well, I did good, I think. But he was just _awful._ And don’t say you told me.’

‘I did tell you, though,’ Dundy’s voice crackled in James’ ear. ‘You knew what you were getting into, Jas.’

‘Well, yes, sort of. But it was even worse than he used to be when I was still in control room.’

They had only spoken when strictly necessary during the remainder of the shift, relaying information when a new call came in or setting up a plan before arrival. James had been thankful it had been a relatively quiet run; luckily they hadn’t gotten any resuscitation jobs, mainly tending to the elderly with some nasty wounds but nothing more, a few kids with some cuts or broken bones, but nothing like any big car crashes or stabbings or something of the likes of that.

‘So, are you gonna quit and join me back in control?’

‘Course not. I wanna know what his deal is.’

‘Jas…’

‘Dundas,’ James shot back with a stern voice.

‘You’re hopeless.’

‘Maybe.’

***

‘Jesus, Thomas. He’s even worse in person.’

Blanky’s laughter rang out through the room from Francis’ phone.

‘I’m serious, Tom, I’m not sure how I’m going to survive another shift with the bloke.’

‘Sounds like from what ye told me, he just wants to get in yer pants.’

It’s a good thing he hadn’t called with a video feed; he could feel his face flush almost instantly. ‘Thomas!’

‘Are you blushing?’ Blanky laughed.

‘No.’

‘Sounds like ye are.’

‘I’m not!’

‘Sure you are. D’you fancy him?’

Francis ran a hand over his face and grunted, ‘Just because the lad’s good-looking and I’m forced to work with him doesn’t mean I _like_ him. He’s a prick, Tom! I can’t stand him.’

‘Yer admitting he’s handsome, though.’ Francis could practically see the raised brow and glint in Thomas’ eyes, not to mention the bloody grin he must be sporting right now.

‘I said _good-looking,_ not handsome. Don’t twist my words,’ Francis warned.

‘Well, I’ve heard enough to confirm my suspicions,’ Blanky guffawed. ‘Have fun on yer shift tonight!’

‘Prick,’ Francis said and hung up, ready to fall asleep and forget all about today, never to wake up again.

***

It had been…awkward, at first. Neither of them really knew how to act around each other when the shift started, resulting in a long silence broken by glances and looks and the ultimate need for _someone_ to speak out.

‘Uh, I’m sorry. About last night—if anything I did offended you, in any way,’ James had uttered after they’d checked their supplies and set out for the road.

‘S fine,’ Francis had muttered back, quickly returning to an uncomfortable silence and keeping his eyes on the road.

Only James had livened up when he heard Dundy’s voice crackle to life over the intercom, excitedly exclaiming ‘Dundas, my good man, is that you?’, earning him a ‘Jas! You rascal!’ in return, followed by the call they’d need to attend. Francis’ mood had decidedly _not_ improved and had only grown more dour with each passing minute he needed to listen to the ridiculous banter between James and Dundy.

Tonight was unmistakably going to be one of the more rowdier nights. They’d already gotten a call of a fighting and tended to someone who’d had a fit and fallen with his head bouncing off some concrete steps, there had been one call of a child getting some boiling hot water over themselves and another about a lady having a heart attack. It was safe to say they’d been busy, and that a break was in order, having already worked their way through most of their shift running on only one or two cups of coffee and half a cup of tea each.

They had only just bought some sandwiches and a fresh cup of coffee from a nearby night shop with flashy lights that was apparently open 24/7 when their receiver came to life and Dundy’s voice sounded through their vehicle again. ‘Apologies, lads, I know you’re on break but I have a call coming in and no one else to take it. Do you mind?’

James had just stuffed the last bit of his BLT sandwich in his mouth and swallowed it down harshly, picking up the receiver. ‘Go ahead.’

‘I’ve got a man calling in saying he’s feeling like he’s having a heart attack, he’s slurring his words and is clearly inebriated but sounds genuinely in pain, so I’ve put it as a code Red One.’

‘Right, got it. Thanks Dundas, we’ll be on our way.’

Francis signed for them to switch seats while he stuffed another bite of his chicken sandwich in his mouth and opened the driver side door to get out, cursing when he spilled some of his coffee outside in his hurry to switch places. James clambered up into the driver seat and adjusted his chair and mirrors quickly but efficiently, flicking the switch to activate the sirens and lights. ‘ _Nine-nine-nine mode, enabled_ ’ sounded through the ambulance as James pulled out of the shop’s parking spot and Francis got the address from the information Dundy sent through to them and inserted it into the GPS for James to follow.

Francis stuffed the last bits of his sandwich in his mouth and washed them down with the remainder of his coffee, clearing his throat before he laid out a plan for them to follow once they got there. ‘We leave the stretcher in the back for now, most important thing is to get to the fella and look him over, make sure he’s really having a heart attack or if something else is the matter. If he’s already unconscious first thing we do is start CPR and get the pads on him, alright?’

‘Yeah, got it,’ James confirmed, driving as fast as he could, honking at a few cars that wouldn’t move out of the way.

‘I’ll get the bag and you get the bigger one with the pads, we’ll get the stretcher out once we’ve confirmed him to be stable and able to be moved.’ Francis paused for a moment to take a look at James, who was gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than usual. ‘It might look scary when I start doing CPR, alright, but just remember to keep your cool and know that it’s necessary to get his heart beating again.’

James looked back at him and nodded after a moment, turning his eyes back towards the road in front of him, his grip relaxing just a little.

They arrived after a quick ride of five minutes, leaving the lights on but turning the sirens off when they got their bags and made their way up the driveway. James noticed the door was open and took a careful step inside, calling out, ‘Hello? It’s the Ambulance Service,’ followed by Francis who laid a hand on his shoulder, giving him a look that said to be careful; they were dealing with someone who’d had a few too many drinks, after all. James nodded, turning back towards the house and taking another couple of steps inside. He heard someone rushing down the steps and turned in that direction, calling out again. ‘Hello? Wh—’

He didn’t even have time to process what was happening, as he got interrupted in a blinding flash of someone rushing at him, flinging their full weight against James and pushing him up against a wall, pressing something sharp against his throat. His banged his head and back against the hard material and got the wind knocked out of him, wheezing as he saw Francis standing in the doorway from the corner of his eye, holding out a hand as if to say that they came in peace, holding his other hand near the hand radio strapped to his shirt.

Francis called in to control room, ‘Dundy, call for backup and the police. We’ve got an unexpected hostile situation here. Kid armed with a machete.’

‘Jesus! Will do,’ came Dundy’s response.

James felt the sharp object— _machete, apparently_ —move from away from his throat and saw the boy point it towards Francis. ‘Stay the fuck away!’ He was yelling, waving the blade around dangerously.

‘Hey, listen kid, we’re just here because we got a call of someone having a heart attack,’ James attempted, holding his empty hands up for the boy as a peace offering, trying to signal they didn’t mean any arm.

‘No!’ The kid yelled again, holding the machete back to James’ throat. ‘Youse just gonna hurt ‘im! I seen what you do on the shows!’

‘Listen, lad,’ Francis started, inching closer towards the two of them with his hand still outstretched, ‘I don’t know what you’ve seen, but all I know is that you’re not going to solve anything by flinging that machete around. We’re only here to help whoever’s having that heart attack, kiddo. You’ve got to let us through and work, okay? That’s the only way we’re going to be able to save him, yeah?’

‘No…no I don’t trust youse! Leave ‘im alone! You…you gotta…’ The boy was stuttering, looking frightfully scared, shifting his gaze from Francis to James to Francis again and then up the stairs.

Francis saw a chance and rushed at him, knocking the blade from the kid’s hand and working him down on the floor, leaving James pressed up against the wall, wheezing and taking panicked little breaths as Francis wrestled to get the kid’s hands pinned to the floor. ‘James?’ When he didn’t get an answer from James he tried again, his Irish brogue creeping back into his voice. ‘ _Jeames._ ’

That got some reaction out of him at least, as James looked back from the boy to Francis with wide eyes. ‘Wha—?’

‘—Call back in to Dundy,’ Francis interrupted. ‘Tell him I’ve got the attacker under control but that we still need that backup and police assistance. And go up and check on whoever called, you think you can do that?’ James gave him a short, hesitant nod, slowly pulling himself back together on the adrenaline starting to rush through his body. ‘Good. Take my bag, you’re going to do fine, alright James?’

James nodded again and took the bag Francis left in the doorway, calling in to Dundy and relaying the information Francis just told him to and rushed up the steps as fast as he could with two heavy bags on him. He quickly found the person they came for—guessing it was the boy’s dad judging by their age difference and similarities in their facial structure—laying on flat on his back on the floor and fell down to his knees to check his pulse and breathing, both of which he didn’t find and starting to do CPR. He could hear the sirens of police and their backup ambulance team arriving from downstairs, quickly followed by Francis’ footsteps rushing up the stairs to come and help him. James looked up to confirm it was him as he was pushing down on the man’s chest, trying to get his heart to pump blood through his veins again, and back down to focus on the task at hand as Francis pulled out the kit and put the pads on his chest.

‘You know how to use one of these things?’ Francis asked as he turned the machine on, watching as beads of sweat formed on James’ forehead as he kept performing CPR. James nodded, breathing hard form the exertion of using so much force. ‘Good. Switch places with me, I’ll take over CPR and you can use this thing.’

They swiftly switched places and kept trying to get the man back among the living, performing CPR and administering shocks through the pads, making sure they didn’t touch him when the machine beeped and told them to before it send out the shocks. James checked the dad’s pulse every time after a shock, and they kept this up for more than twenty minutes as police and the backup crew checked the boy over downstairs.

Another beep, another shock, another check of his pulse. ‘I’ve got one! But it’s very weak.’

‘Good enough for me,’ Francis panted, wiping his forehead down with his sleeve. ‘I’ll stabilize him, you go downstairs and ask the other team to help us get him down on a scoop.’ James nodded and disappeared for a brief moment before returning with two more paramedics and the scoop stretcher. The four of them got the man stabilized and on the stretcher and slowly, carefully, carried him downstairs and into the other ambulance.

***

‘Are you two gonna be alright?’ Asked one of the other paramedics.

Francis eyed a distant-looking James standing by their own ambulance for a moment before answering. ‘Yeah,’ he sighed, ‘I think so. We’ll figure something out. Thank you, for the help.’

‘No worries. Stay safe, huh?’

Francis nodded and turned back to James as the others drove away with lights and sirens, the police long gone with the boy and his machete. He noticed a smear of red on James’ neck no one had noticed, or didn’t think it urgent enough, in the chaos before now. ‘James.’

His hands were trembling, Francis noticed as he looked him over further. James looked up at him with tired eyes, not saying anything.

Gently laying a hand on James’ shoulder, Francis sighed and opened the back door of their ambulance, guiding James up the steps and sat him onto the bed. He got out a disinfectant and some sterile gauze, putting on a pair of nitrile gloves and tilting James’ head back a bit to clean his wound. ‘You okay there, James?’ He asked as he took a glance up at him.

‘I—I think so,’ James murmured, his voice barely louder than a wheezy whisper.

Francis sighed and took a better look at the wound on his neck; it wasn’t all that deep for it to need stitches, but he decided to put some steri-strips anyway, just so it would heal a little quicker and James wouldn’t have to look at it for as long—and be reminded of this night. He took off his gloves after he was done and laid a careful hand on James’ shoulder again.

‘Jas? Francis,’ Dundy’s voice echoed through both their hand radios. ‘Are you both alright? Could I get an update?’

‘We’re fine,’ Francis replied with a sigh, keeping his eyes on James to make sure he was really alright. ‘I pinned the kid with the machete to the ground and sent James up to check on our caller. Backup crew and police arrived shortly after and took over the kid, and I went up to help James with the CPR. We got him stabilized and sent him on his merry way with the other team. Ask them for any further info on the guy.’

‘Jesus… Uh, thank you. Is James alright?’

‘Got a cut on his neck, but I fixed that up for him. Give us some time.’

‘Yeah, sure thing,’ Dundy’s voice crackled. ‘Let me know once you’re ready to head out again, I’ll put you on unavailable for the moment.’

‘Thanks.’ Francis turned his focus back on James, whose eyes were fixed on his trembling hands.  
 _The adrenaline had worked off, then._ ‘Talk to me, James. How’re you feeling?’

James was silent for a long moment, the only sound their joined breathing. When he finally spoke again, it was with a shaky voice. ‘I’m not even fully English…’ He whispered. Francis frowned slightly, trying to link it to what had just happened. ‘I was born out of an affair, Francis. My birthmother was Portuguese.’ He looked up, eyes red-rimmed and wet. ‘Even my last name is made up. I am a joke, Francis. I tell all these glorified stories and tales of adventure, telling everyone how courageous and successful I am even though it’s all vanity. I’m all vanity. I never told anyone, in fear of being…being put away with the bunch of foreigners deemed ‘ _not worthy_ ’. All because my father couldn’t keep his hands to himself. I’m a fake.’ He swallowed harshly.

Francis watched his throat convulse sharply, and shook his head. ‘No, James…’ He said softly, moving his hand from James’ shoulder to take both of his hands in his own. He didn’t know if this was an improper thing to do, if he should take his hands back or not; James didn’t seem to mind, anyway, so he continued to hold his hands. ‘You’re not…not that. You’ve shown more courage than I’ve seen anyone do in a long while.’ James shook his head, and a single tear rolled down his cheek. ‘No, James. _James._ I’m not making that up. Ever since—since Thomas—and that job—’ Francis swallowed down a wheezing, raspy sound. ‘Ever since that happened, and Tom lost his leg—I couldn’t forgive myself for that. I started drinking, heavily. I’m in AA, James.’ He reached under his uniform’s shirt and pulled out a chain necklace with a chip on it. ‘Three years sober, now. I was a mess, a proper mess. Wallowing in self-pity and guilt even though Thomas had lost a bloody leg, for Christ’s sake. Once he’d recuperated enough to hop about on some crutches he came to visit and scolded me good. For being such a mess and my own whining on about how guilty I felt that he lost his leg because of me, for losing myself in the whiskey and acting like a right old fool. He showed more courage than I or anyone I knew did. Christ, he lost his fucking leg and still got up and got better than he ever was before, and showed us all how to do it.’

Looking stunned, all James could do was look at Francis, mouth agape. ‘I…I didn’t know any of that.’

Francis smiled ruefully, ‘I never told anyone. Just told them I needed some time off.’ He squeezed James’ hands, looking at him with an approving, _admiring,_ gaze. ‘What I’m saying, James, is—is that you’re not a fake, James. That kid held a machete to your throat, for God’s sake, and you still kept it together and went up to that man and started CPR on him. That takes _courage,_ James. Pure and raw courage.’

James couldn’t find the words to say how he felt, how grateful he was that Francis—Francis, of all people!—was here, picking up the pieces and putting him back together. He had never expected to feel this way, to be so glad to have him with him right in that moment. He’d thought Francis had hated him, would always hate him, and how that had stung. But now the carefully assembled shell around Francis Crozier seemed to be cracking, letting parts—small parts, but still parts—of the _real_ man shine through the cracks. ‘I—Thank you,’ James finally managed with a thick voice.

Francis nodded, a soft look washing over his face. He reached back up to press the button on his hand radio, ‘Dundy?’

The radio crackled back to life. ‘Yeah?’

‘I think our shift is done for tonight, we’re heading back to the garage.’

‘Yeah… Of course. I’ll tell ‘em. Jas doing okay?’

Francis looked over to James for a second. ‘As far as he can be. Don’t worry over him too much.’

‘Sure. Hope you have a good remainder of the night. Both of you.’

‘You too, Dundas,’ James replied, his voice a lot more steady than he had expected it to be.

‘Let’s get you home,’ Francis sighed with a small, reassuring smile, rubbing a hand over his face.

***

The drive back to the garage went by in an understanding sort of silence, one you’ll rarely find anywhere else than between two people who’ve gone through the same thing, and know what the other is feeling. Francis went through their checklist on his own as James took some time to think in his seat in the front of the ambulance, waiting for Francis to finish.

After Francis was finished he pulled open the door on James’ side. ‘Did you drive here?’

‘No, came by bike,’ James answered. ‘Why?’

‘Right. I’m driving you home. You’re in no state to get back home all by yourself.’

‘What? No, Francis, I’m alright. I’m perfectly capable of getting myself home by bike.’

Francis raised his brows, nodding towards James’ hands. ‘Have you seen the way your hands shake, James?’

‘Wha—?’ James frowned at him and looked down at his hands. ‘That’s—I’ll be fine.’

‘After the incident with Blanky, my hands shook for three full days,’ Francis countered. ‘I could barely hold a mug without the coffee spilling out. I’m putting your bike in my car and I’m driving you home.’

James wanted to argue against it, but something in Francis’ determined gaze told him his mind was made up and there would be no changing it. So, James let him load up his bike and let him drive him home to his apartment. They didn’t talk much during this ride, either, though James thought something seemed to have shifted between them. There was no more of the irritated, angry energy between them that had been there before, and James was happy for it. He hoped Francis was, too.

He walked with James up the several flights of stairs, up to his apartment door. He hesitated for a moment, lips parting as if he wanted to say something several times though no words came out, before he sighed in frustration at himself and pulled out his phone. ‘Give me your phone, will you?’

James lifted an eyebrow and pulled his own out from his trousers’ back pocket and handed it over.

‘This…’ Francis started, typing something on James’ phone. ‘…Is my number. Call me. When—If—Uh, you feel like you want to talk about what happened. Or just…if you want to talk.’ He handed James his phone back, looking up at him with a knowing look. ‘I told Sophia what happened, but she’s very professional, don’t worry. She understood completely and made some calls. Long story short, she got us a couple of days off.’

A small, relieved smile made its way across James’ face, his fingers fumbling with his phone. ‘Oh, that’s—Thank you.’

A curt nod from Francis, one corner of his lips twitching up into a smile. ‘You’re welcome.’ He hesitated briefly again before he laid his hand back on James’ shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go and turning back to the stairs.

James watched him for a moment before stepping back in his apartment, closing the door behind him and leaning back against it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, sighing as he felt that familiar fluttering feeling in his stomach.

***

 _T.Blanky 2:45am:_ Bloody hell Frank. Sophia texted me… What happened?

 _Frank 2:46am:_ Long story. Tell you tomorrow.

 _T.Blanky 2:48am:_ K. How’s James?

 _Frank 2:49am:_ Fine, I think.

 _T.Blanky 2:49am:_ And things between you two?

 _Frank 2:50am:_ There’s…An understanding.

 _T.Blanky 2:50am:_ Anything else?

 _T.Blanky 2:50am:_ ;)

 _Frank 2:52am:_ Shut up.

 _T.Blanky 2:53am:_ XOXO.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was uploaded a little later than usual! Completely lost myself in writing this other thing, oops.
> 
> Right, so after this part I'm VERY scared of letting you all down kfhsdfjkhh so please bear with me and don't bully me,, I'm sensitive lol.


	4. A Phone Call And Chinese For Breakfast

Francis woke up with a start and the image of flowing hair and a crooked smile on his mind, the phantom feeling of soft skin beneath his fingers lingering. He grunted softly and rubbed his hands over his face and through his eyes, rolling over on his stomach to try and go back to sleep. Only then did he realize his phone was buzzing on his nightstand, which had woken him up in the first place. He lifted his face from the pillow and squinted at the bright screen, already mentally scolding whoever woke him up at this ungodly hour. James’ name came into focus. _Oh…_

‘…Hullo?’ Francis’ voice was still a deep, rough baritone, sounding like one would when just having woken up.

‘Francis? Did I wake you? I’m sorry.’

‘S fine… ‘R you okay?’

‘…Not really.’ James sounded like he was shivering. ‘Could—could you come over?’

‘Course. Give me a moment to take a shower and I’ll be right there.’

‘Thanks. Oh—Could you maybe bring something for breakfast? I’m out of food. I’ll pay, of course.’

‘…Yeah, sure thing. See you in a bit.’

‘Thanks, bye.’

Francis hung up the phone and rolled out of bed with a groan. The jump he’d made at that kid really hadn’t done any his back any more favours. _Probably pulled a muscle or something… Damn it all._ He went to take a quick, hot shower and pulled on the first cardigan and trousers he could find, grabbing his wallet, phone and car keys and made his way out the door, hurrying towards the first place he could think of to get something to eat.

On the drive to James he realized he’d told Blanky he’d call and further explain what had happened, putting his phone on speaker while he drove over.

‘Frank? The bloody hell are you doing calling me this early?’

‘Don’t act like you weren’t up and waiting for me to call anyway, Tom.’

‘Alright, alright. Caught me red-handed,’ Blanky laughed. ‘Seriously now, Frank. Tell me what happened. Sophia texted me all worried and then retreated, telling me I should hear it from you.’

Francis sighed heavily and groaned, not really wanting to recount the entire thing but knowing he owed it to his best friend to do so. The man was only worried about him, after all. He started talking, relaying everything that had happened from the moment they got the call to right now, after James had called him.

‘Ohhh so you’re on yer way to him right now, are you? You old dog,’ Blanky guffawed.

‘Shut up, Thomas. He’s clearly not feeling good.’

‘You’re right, ’m sorry. Seriously though, get it on already.’

‘Fuck off, Tom.’

Blanky just laughed, ‘Yeah yeah, you too. Get some, will you?’

Francis rolled his eyes and tapped his phone to hang up, grumbling at the bloody cheek of that man. James couldn’t possibly feel anything for an old coot like him. How could anyone, really? He’d learned that after Sophia and two miserably failed proposals. He’d seen the little rainbow flag pinned to James’ atrociously fashionable shirt that first day, but that didn’t mean he would even _consider_ Francis. Why was he thinking about these things, anyway? He hated James. Well, he didn’t hate him, not anymore. He understood now, better than before, at least. Not everything, but still. _Jesus Christ, Crozier. What are you doing? You’re not supposed to be falling for anyone, least of all your annoying colleague. So what if he’s good-looking… And maybe not as annoying as you’d first thought him to be…_ Francis groaned again and bit his lip as he pulled up to James’ apartment complex, sensing a light, fluttering feeling in his belly.

***

James was feeling absolutely miserable. After Francis had left he’d made himself a cup of tea to try and calm down a bit more, which hadn’t really done anything to help him. Getting ready for bed he’d taken a cold shower, tried to scrub the uneasy feeling from his skin, which had only made him feel even colder. Then, finally having curled up in bed with two extra blankets, he’d only been able to think about what had happened. He felt so stupid, thinking he should have realized sooner, fought back harder, not letting himself get taken by surprise so easily. _I should have known. Francis warned me, for God’s sake._

When he had finally been able to fall asleep, passed out after all the action, the adrenaline having worked off and the exhaustion that had followed everything, a nightmarish version of the events formed themselves into a dream, haunting James even in sleep only to wake him up drenched in a cold sweat, the tips of his fingers ghosting over the steri-strips on his neck. Remembering Francis had given him his number and told him to call him if he needed to, he felt his way along the top of his nightstand and found his phone, turning on the bright screen in search of Francis’ contact and asked him to come over. _Was it weird to ask to bring some food with him?_ His mind flashed an image of Francis taking both James’ hands in his own just a couple of hours ago, feeling a flush in his cheeks. _He wouldn’t mind, would he?_

James forced himself to get out of bed and pull something more appropriate on than just a T-shirt and his threadbare underpants, going for his trusty old chequered sweatpants that he always wore when he needed a little pick-me-up. He made another cup of tea—mug, more like—and curled up on the sofa with a blanket, sipping his tea and watching something on tv while he waited for Francis, trying not to feel the fluttering in his stomach.

It wasn’t long after when the doorbell rang and he opened the door to a somewhat nervous-looking Francis, holding a bag from which a delicious smell made its way to James’ nose and taste buds.

‘Uh, hi,’ Francis murmured, shifting on his feet.

‘Hi,’ James looked up from the bag to Francis’ face, a soft smile on his lips. ‘Uh, come on in.’ He made way and let Francis past in the tiny hallway. ‘Thanks for coming over. I, uh—Didn’t know what else to do.’

‘Of course,’ Francis replied, looking around and back to James, not quite knowing what do with himself.

‘Oh, I’ll take that to the kitchen. Coat hanger ’s over there.’ He points to just behind him, taking the bag from Francis and hiding himself in the kitchen. _Oh God, what are you doing? Stop behaving like a nervous child on his first date, James, he’s not here for that._ Running a hand over his face he called back over his shoulder, ‘What did you bring? Smells heavenly.’

‘Uh—’ Came Francis’ voice, growing louder as he popped his head around the corner, ‘—Chinese. Hope you don’t mind, it was the only place close enough I could think of that was open.’

James’ lips curled into a grin and huffed out a soft laugh. ‘Never had Chinese food this early. Should be good, I think.’

That cracked a grin from Francis, who was fumbling with his hands behind his back, his cheeks looking a soft pink colour as he shifted his weight from foot to foot a little awkwardly.

James looked at him with a soft expression for a moment, watching the colour in Francis’ cheeks that made him look even softer than he already was, a bit younger, even. He flinched out of his state of admiration when Francis cleared his throat, realizing he must have been looking at him for a little longer than was appropriate for colleagues who had just stopped hating each other. ‘Uh—Yes. I—Would you like some tea? I just made some.’ Francis nodded lightly and walked over, taking the food from the bag while James busied himself on picking a mug that didn’t have some hideous image or text on it—he didn’t, in fact, have one, and opted for the least horrendous choice.

Francis snorted when James handed him his mug, looking at the text that said ‘ _Don’t talk to me until I’ve eaten this mug_ ’ in very fancy lettering. James felt his cheeks burning hot as the colour rushed into them and quickly turned around and busied himself with gathering the cutlery they would need.

Sitting down at the small kitchen table, illuminated by the soft orange glow of morning light shining through the window, Francis took a bite from the food he brought before asking, ‘How are you feeling? Get any sleep?’

James looked up at him before casting his eyes downward to his bowl of food again. ‘Not—not really. Lay awake thinking about what had happened for a long time before I did fall asleep. Woke up in a cold sweat not long after.’ He took another bite and swallowed it down quicker than he ought to, hardly tasting any of it as he felt Francis’ eyes on him. ‘Just…needed some company, I think. Did you? Get any sleep, I mean.’

‘Uh, yeah. I passed out pretty quickly once I got home,’ Francis said softly, feeling a sliver of guilt at hearing James had been struggling while he had been blissfully passed out in bed. James gave him a curt nod before taking another bite. ‘I don’t mind, though. Coming over. I get why you need the company.’ _Though I’m not much like good company,_ he added in his thoughts.

‘Well, at least one of us got some rest,’ James smiled ruefully. He hesitated, then, wanting to say something but not sure if he should. ‘Listen, I’m—I’m sorry if you felt forced to say the stuff you did last night. After I made that…that confession.’ He grimaced.

Francis felt like someone was tugging at his heart, hearing James talk like that; so full of self-loathing. He shook his head, ‘No, James. Don’t be sorry. I—I wanted to tell you. I felt…relieved, to have told you. I’ve been behaving like an arse, James, and I don’t understand why. It’s me who should be sorry.’ He reached out over the small, cold table and took James’ hand in his, feeling the warmth seep through him.

James blinked slowly, looking down at their joined hands, unable to do anything but _look._ He tore his eyes away after an excruciatingly long minute of silence, looking back up at Francis. Francis must have thought he overstepped, as he pulled his hand away quickly and cleared his throat. James missed his touch instantly.

***

James had asked him to stay for a bit longer after they finished eating, they could just watch something on tv, or chat, or anything else, just as long as Francis was willing to stay and keep him company for a bit longer. Francis didn’t mind, he hadn’t got anything better to do anyway, and had ended up with James dozing off on his shoulder as they watched some deep sea documentary on tv. He was in full panic mode now, that fluttering feeling in his belly reaching levels as high as the bloody apartment building, though he didn’t dare wake James up. He fished his phone out of his pocket and texted Blanky in a panic.

 _Frank 7:45am:_ HELP!!!

 _T.Blanky 7:52am:_ Did you shag him yet??

 _Frank 7:53am:_ NO!!

 _Frank 7:53am:_ We were watching TV and now he’s fallen asleep on my arm.

 _Frank 7:54am:_ WHAT DO I DO???

Francis could see the dots on his screen indicating Blanky was typing. _Taking an awful bloody long time, Thomas._ He could practically hear the bastard laughing.

 _T.Blanky 8:01am:_ What do you mean what do you do? Let him sleep and then snog him when he wakes up, you arse!

Francis groaned.

 _Frank 8:02am:_ You’re a prick, Thomas.

 _Frank 8:02am:_ Seriously, what. Do. I. Do.

 _T.Blanky 8:02am:_ Hell if I know. I’ve been happily married for the last twenty years, I don’t concern myself with acting like a schoolboy in love.

 _Frank 8:03am:_ Thanks, real helpful.

 _T.Blanky 8:04am:_ You know me ;)

He shut off his phone again and looked over to James, who still seemed to be fast asleep. _Think, Crozier. What to do, what to do._ He could just slip out from under James, replace his arm with a pillow and leave him sleeping, get in the car and get the fuck home. No, that would just be rude after James let him into his home.

Turns out he didn’t have to think of an escape for much longer, as James made a small noise and started to stir, lifting his head and rubbing a hand over his eyes. ‘Oh… ‘M sorry, did I fall asleep on your arm?’

‘Uh,’ Francis panicked, ‘Yeah, you did. But, uh, no worries. I, uh—I have to go.’ He jumped up off the sofa and started to hurriedly gather his things. ‘Thanks for having me, I’ll, uh—See you later then.’

‘Francis—’ James tried, going after him.

Francis had already shrugged his coat on and was out the door, making his way towards the stairs in a fast pace.

‘At least let me pay you for the food!’ James called after him, but it was no use. He was already rushing down the flights of stairs out of his sight.

***

‘Jesus, Thomas! I panicked!’ Francis yelled over the phone.

‘Alright, calm yourself. You sound like you just caused a hit ‘n run, not ran away from yer boyfriend.’

‘He’s not my boyfriend, Tom!’ Francis hissed. ‘Christ, what do I do now? I feel like an idiot.’

‘That’s cuz you are one,’ Blanky countered.

Francis groaned, fumbling around for his housekeys in his pocket.

‘Just call him, I’m sure he’s less of a panicky idiot than you are.’

‘I can’t just call him after that!’

‘Sure you can. Just ring him up and talk to him.’

‘…’

‘Yer not gonna talk to him, are you?’

‘No.’

‘…Frank.’

‘Jesus. Just…give me some time.’

‘Fine. But you owe it to him to at least call.’

‘I know…’ Francis groaned again. ‘I’ll call you later.’

‘Sure. Just don’t fuck it up again. You got a chance with the guy.’

***

 _Crocodile Dundas 9:27am:_ So he just up and left?

 _Jas 9:28am:_ Yeah… Don’t know what I’m doing wrong.

 _Crocodile Dundas 9:28am:_ Well u did fall asleep on the man’s shoulder.

 _Jas 9:29am:_ Oh God, I did…

 _Jas 9:29am:_ Think I scared him off??

 _Crocodile Dundas 9:30am:_ For ur sake I hope not.

 _Jas 9:30am:_ Should I call him?

 _Crocodile Dundas 9:31am:_ Just text him. Gives him more time to respond without panicking over an instant reply if u called.

 _Jas 9:32am:_ Yeah… You’re probs right.

 _Jas 9:32am:_ Thanks Dundas. Owe you one.

 _Crocodile Dundas 9:33am:_ No worries. Can buy me a pack of biscuits ;)

 _Jas 9:34am:_ Should’ve known…

 _Crocodile Dundas 9:34am:_ :3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rereading my own stuff just one more time before I post it really wasn't a good idea dsfsdfj. Hope you didn't cringe as much as I did xoxo
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/kahootqueen69) :)


	5. A Sandwich, A Morning Run, And A Shared look

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAH so sorry for the late update! I had a busy day and forgot to upload it, but here it is!

James had texted him some time after he left in a hurry. Francis hadn’t opened them. What was he supposed to say to him? ‘ _Sorry I ran out of your apartment, I’m a disaster bisexual and can’t deal with my feelings for you so I ran_ ’? Or maybe ‘ _I’m too old and tired of life to be your boyfriend, sorry_ ’ sounded better? _Like he would even be interested in an old grump like me,_ Francis thought once more and sighed, rubbing his hands over his face as he lay in bed, a miserable heap of Crozier under the pile of blankets.

It was now almost midnight; he had ignored James’ texts and calls the entire day, drowning himself in coffee as he mulled over what the best course of action was. It was time to text him back. Blanky was right, he owed James that much at least.

 _Frank 11:48pm:_ Sorry I ran. Don’t know what came over me.

He put his phone back on his nightstand, not expecting a reply from James until tomorrow morning. Poor man barely got any sleep the previous night, he must’ve been fast asleep by the time Francis had replied.

The pling from his phone told him otherwise.

 _Jas 11:53pm:_ No worries.

 _Jas 11:53pm:_ You okay?

 _No,_ Francis thought with a scoff.

 _Frank 11:54pm:_ Yes.

 _Jas 11:54pm:_ Want to talk about it?

 _Frank 11:55pm:_ Do you?

 _Jas 11:56pm:_ Kinda.

Francis groaned. _Shit._

 _Jas 11:56pm:_ You want to come over tomorrow? I’ll make us a cuppa.

 _Oh, God. Tomorrow?_ He needed more time. He couldn’t possibly think this through properly before tomorrow…

 _Frank 11:57pm:_ Maybe the day after? Promised Tom I’d go visit tomorrow.

 _Jas 11:58pm:_ Oh, sure. Text you tomorrow then?

 _Frank 11:59pm:_ Yeah, sure.

Francis turned his phone off and fell back on his pillow with a mighty pitiful groan. _He knows. Oh God, he knows. And he’s going to make me say it, too._ Maybe he could feign illness, or insanity. Fake his own death? It was safe to say he wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, replaying the possible outcome of events over and over and over in his head, until he would probably pass out from exhaustion or severe anxiety or something.

***

It was early the next morning, and Francis hadn’t slept for a minute. As predicted, he’d lain awake all night tossing and turning, thinking of James every waking moment. Well…Maybe he had slept for a couple of hours, though that didn’t mean that time wasn’t spent thinking of James, either. Because he had. Oh god, he was so miserably in love, it was embarrassing for a guy his age. The first thing he’d done when the clock struck a reasonable hour, was call Thomas.

‘I’m comin’ over,’ Francis stated.

‘What? Now wait a minute, weren’t you going to talk to James?’ Blanky asked.

‘…Maybe.’

‘Frank, you promised to call him, for God’s sake! I told you not to fuck up this thing you got going with him.’

‘I didn’t! Not yet, at least. I texted him last night. He asked to come over today.’

‘So why aren’t you?!’ Blanky demanded.

‘I need some time! I—I think he knows… He’s going to reject me and scold me for ever thinking I could have him, oh God…’ Francis groaned.

‘Calm yer tits, man. Yer mam never raised you to be a whiny little shit. What d’you need from me then?’

‘You’ve got to help me prepare for this thing. I’ve not got a clue what to expect or what to say!’

‘Right, fine. You’re in luck Esther is home all day to take the kids. Meet me at that sandwich place.’

‘Yeah, sure thing. Thanks, Tom.’

After Francis had hung up, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to put James out of his mind for a small hour while he got dressed and ready to go out, and meet his best friend to…discuss James. There was no escaping it. His world seemed to revolve around James nowadays.

It was only a short distance to their usual place from Francis’ apartment, and so he walked the route with his hands stuffed in his pockets, gaze cast downwards to his feet and the street, not really paying any attention to the traffic around him. It was a miracle he didn’t get hit by a car or cyclist. He almost walked past the shop, too, if Blanky hadn’t hopped after him and grabbed him by the shoulder.

‘Shit, Thomas!’

‘Should keep yer head out of the clouds, then.’

Francis gave him a look before Blanky started laughing loudly, setting Francis off laughing too. ‘You’re an arse, Tom.’

‘Oi, you’re the one leaving that poor bastard hanging.’

‘I am not! I told him I was meeting you. He knows.’

‘Mmn, I’d hope he does,’ Blanky raised his brows and squinted at him, jabbing a finger to his shoulder.

‘He does,’ Francis grumbled. Blanky just grinned and gave him a comradery shove inside—he may have a prosthetic leg, but Francis knew he hadn’t lost any of the strength he possessed, might have actually gotten some more, for all he knew.

Francis got in line to place their orders as Blanky picked the two of them a quiet spot by the window. As he waited in line, he sensed his thoughts wandering back to James over and over again. _Christ, what am I? Some fourteen-year-old schoolboy, nervous about his first love? Pathetic._ He ran a hand over his face as the line progressed forward, and looked back over his shoulder towards his mate; Blanky wasn’t paying any attention to him, clearly too busy with his phone—that was for the best, really, as he would surely know Francis was thinking of James instantly and ridicule him for it with that big grin plastered across his face.

He sighed as the line kept slowly moving forward—a little too slow for his liking—and kept thinking of what James might want to talk about tomorrow. _About rejecting your sorry old self, ofcourse,_ Francis thought as he bit his lip. Finally, the line moved forward and he could order.

‘Two lattes, and a chicken sandwich and tuna sandwich, please,’ Francis mumbled as he tried to fish his wallet from the depths of his jeans’ pockets. Paying for the sandwiches and coffees and moving on to the end of the counter to wait for their order he tripped twice, not minding his own feet as his thoughts seemed to have fucked off in James’ vicinity permanently for the day. It was a miracle when he got back to their table without spilling anything.

‘So,’ Blanky mumbled around a big bite of his tuna sandwich, ‘What’s the deal with this James fella, then? I thought you hated him.’

‘I did,’ Francis grumbled, ‘Until I didn’t.’

Blanky raised his brows, ‘Well thanks for clearing that up.’

‘I don’t know, Thomas,’ Francis groaned, heaving a big sigh, ‘I already told you. Something shifted after that kid with the machete came after James.’

‘Well, that _is_ a pretty big thing.’ Blanky took another humongous bite of his sandwich, at this rate it would be gone within seconds. ‘You got a picture of him?’

Francis fumbled his phone out of his pocket and tapped on the screen a few times, scrolling down a little, and turned it around for Blanky to see the picture he had of him on WhatsApp.

‘Mmn, ain’t bad. And yer hitting that?’

‘Thomas!’ Francis hissed angrily in a hushed tone. ‘I am _not hitting that_.’

‘But you’d like to,’ Blanky grinned devilishly. Judging from the look on Francis’ face, he was right, and laughed loudly.’

Francis felt his cheeks turning a bright red colour once again and leaned over the table to give Blanky’s shoulder a shove.

‘Wait, ain’t that him?’ Blanky asked, pointing out the window to the streets.

‘What? No. Stop it, that’s not funny, Thomas.’

‘No I ain’t joking, see for yourself.’

Francis’ eyes went big and he snapped his head around towards the window behind him, searching the streets in a frantic feeling of panic. ‘Oh, fuck!’ He twisted back around quickly, ducking his head between his shoulders, suddenly seeming very interested in his sandwich. ‘Did he see me? Thomas did he see?!’

‘Hell if I know,’ Blanky shrugged, focussing back on his tuna sandwich. ‘You’ve got to talk this out, Frank. With him, not me.’

‘I know I do! I just…don’t know how. What if he just laughs? Scold me for the miserably old fool that I am.’

‘His loss,’ Blanky shrugged again. ‘You move on, end of story.’

Francis threw him a look, ‘Well what if I don’t want to?’

‘Then you better hope he likes you back.’

***

James had gotten up early for a morning run, hoping the cool air would sooth him and put his thoughts in order—or anything even remotely resembling order, really. He kept thinking back to how everything seemed to be going just fine, when Francis came over. They’d had a nice breakfast, a good talk, they’d been _okay_ with each other. Up until James had felt the need to fall asleep on his shoulder, of course. _Christ, what a stupid thing to do._ He could only hope he hadn’t scared Francis off properly.

He rolled out of bed and padded over towards the kitchen and the fridge, stopping halfway as he remembered he didn’t really have any proper food in. Maybe he’d pop by the shop quickly after his run to get some stuff for a late breakfast and for dinner tonight. He turned on his heel and went back to put on his jogging outfit, thinking he’d take a shower afterwards when he got back home.

He took his usual route for the run, thankful for the quietude of the streets at this hour. The sun was shining bright, bathing him and the surroundings in an orange glow he could very much enjoy. That, and the cool air filling his lungs with each breath he took, did help to organize some of his thoughts. They didn’t, however, keep them from wandering back to Francis each and every time. He knew he had to talk to him, tell him how he really felt about him. Christ, he didn’t even know if Francis was into men, let alone men like _him._ James had heard something about him and Sophia, but one could always hope, right? _Even though he’s never made any kind of statement or done something to indicate it. Oh God, you are a fool, James Fitzjames,_ he thought with a groan. He’d had to stop for a moment and lean against someone’s waist-high stone garden wall after that, thinking he might as well break off his run and go for his grocery shopping.

Walking through the city in his tight-fitting running clothes with a heavy bag of groceries in each hand, he thought he was quite the sight. If only Francis could see him now; surely he couldn’t resist _this,_ now, could he? Turns out he _could_ see him, only a short moment later after James rounded the corner and crossed the street. He spotted him sitting behind the window of a sandwich place which looked promising—he’d have to tell Dundy about it later, the man loved a good sandwich. He stopped for a moment and smiled, and saw Francis turning around in a seemingly distressed state. James was just about to lift his hand and wave when he turned back around just as quickly, looking like he wanted to fold into himself. Not sure whether to approach or walk on, James frowned at the strange behaviour, before realizing he was still in his running outfit and carrying groceries, and decided it was probably better to return home. Francis was with what James thought to be a friend, anyway, and it wouldn’t really do to come barging in and join them like that.

So James walked on, and continued home.

***

Blanky raised his brows. ‘So, does he always dress like that?’

‘What? No, ‘course not,’ Francis grumbled, feeling his cheeks were still burning and looking like two tomatoes.

‘Got to admit, you do have a type,’ Blanky said as he turned back to happily munching on his sandwich. ‘Sporty, tall, good-looking.’

‘I don’t,’ Francis mumbled, stirring aimlessly through his latte.

‘Aw come on, Frank. First Sophia, now James? Don’t tell me yer blind.’

Francis shot him a look over the rim of his cup as he took a sip.

Blanky threw his hands up in the air in a way of surrender. ‘Just sayin’. I mean it as a good thing.’ He leaned over and thumped Francis’ chest, grinning from ear to ear. ‘Good for you, Frank, you old rascal!’

Francis just sighed and continued sipping his coffee, grumbling and determined to give Blanky a good shove as soon as they were outside.


	6. The Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is quite a short chapter, for which I apologise! It may have been longer if I stuck it in with one of the other chapters, but I felt like this needed its own :)

Francis was sure James had seen him and Blanky sitting at the sandwich place, and he was double sure James must have seen him looking at him and making a fool of himself yet again. He’d avoided checking his phone for pretty much the rest of the day for exactly that reason. Remembering he’d promised James to text today, though, he had to check _at some point,_ which he decided would yet again be late at night.

 _Jas 8:23am:_ Saw you at that sandwich place :)

 _Jas 8:23am:_ Don’t know if you saw me. Was that your friend Blanky?

So he _did_ see him. Great.

 _Frank 10:04pm:_ Yeah, did. You looked good.

 _Frank 10:04pm:_ And yeah, that was Blanky.

 _‘You looked good’? Jesus, Frank, think of something original, man._ He put his phone away again as he waited for a response, trying to distract himself with whatever was on tv, at which he failed, yet again, miserably. _Perhaps he had already gone to bed, tired of waiting for me. Job well done again, Frank, for Christ’s sake,_ he thought as he checked his phone at least three times a minute.

Then; a pling.

 _Jas 10:28pm:_ Thanks! :) You too x

Francis’ breath hitched for a second, his gaze fixed to his screen, staring at the message he just got. _Just because he sent an ‘x’ doesn’t mean he fancies you, keep it together._

Another pling, another message.

 _Jas 10:28pm:_ Still want to come over tomorrow?

 _Frank 10:29pm:_ Of course.

 _Jas 10:30pm:_ Cool. Text me tomorrow morning for a time to meet? We can have a late breakfast at my place, if you want.

 _Frank 10:31pm:_ Sure. I can bring something.

 _Frank 10:31pm:_ …If you want.

 _Jas 10:32pm:_ From the Chinese place again? ;)

 _Frank 10:32pm:_ Uh…Could bring something else, if you’d like.

 _Jas 10:33pm:_ No, no! Chinese was nice!

 _Jas 10:33pm:_ Please do :)

 _Frank 10:34pm:_ Sure, I’ll get some. See you tomorrow then?

 _Jas 10:35pm:_ Yeah! See you!

***

It was a beautiful morning when Francis woke up; the birds were chirping outside his window, the sky a light blue colour without a cloud in sight to ruin the weather and the sun was shining, warming the earth pleasantly. He couldn’t enjoy a single thing of it. All he could think about was what James might say or how to tell him how he felt, even though he’s always acted as an arse towards him—until recently, that is.

He’d texted James around eight o’clock if he was up and if he could come over, thinking in the back of his mind he’d rather James were still asleep. That was both a genuine thought and one rather more in his own favour. He truly wanted James to get a good night’s rest, but he also sort of wanted to have some more time to think about what he was going to say to him. Not that more time would do anything useful, he’d already thought of every outcome or things to say—on both ends.

So it was that Francis Crozier was now making his way towards James’ apartment yet again with a bag of Chinese food for breakfast in the seat next to him. James said he liked it, last time, so he just picked the safe option and went to the Chinese place, getting them both the exact same order as two days ago. Parking the car and taking the stairs, doubts rushed through his mind yet again, right up until he knocked on the door he knew to be James’.

James opened the door and smiled when he saw Francis standing in the doorway, looking entirely different than two days ago. He was wearing dark navy-coloured trousers that probably belonged to an entire set, sporting a white, warm cream-coloured sweater that matched it perfectly in a way you didn’t expect it to. Francis’ tight-set jaw slackened at the sight of him. _Oh. He looked good. Christ did he look good._

‘Francis!’ James was positively beaming. ‘Come in, come in!’ Before Francis could say or do anything he was being ushered inside of the apartment and James was taking his coat off to place on the hanger.

‘Hi,’ Francis managed between the hustle of coats and bags and James.

James took the bag from him and ushered him through to the kitchen, pouring him coffee in a different, uglier mug than yesterday’s. This one decorated with a picture of an ice bear in an ugly Christmas sweater.

‘James.’

James didn’t seem to hear, taking the food from the bag and searching for some clean cutlery, bustling about in the kitchen.

‘ _James,_ ’ Francis said, louder this time, grabbing James’ wrist to stop him from running about. He shook his head with a frown. ‘What’s going on?’

James’ smile disappeared, a frown forming itself between his brows. As soon as Francis let go of his wrist, he began to fidget with his hands. ‘I, uh—’ James murmured, ‘—There’s something we need to talk about, and it’s—it’s not an easy thing.’ He hesitated for a moment, biting his lip, before sitting down opposite Francis at the small table.

‘Before you say anything, I—I’m sorry I ran, last time.’ Francis looked down at his hands in his lap, taking a deep breath before he continued, ‘I—I’ve been thinking, about things, and I freaked. I panicked, James, and I didn’t mean to be so ungrateful.’

James shook his head, a small, rueful smile appearing briefly on his lips. ‘You don’t need to apologize, I—I think I understand, but I’m not sure, and that’s what I need to talk to you about.’

‘You—You know?’ Francis stammered, a feeling of panic rising up in his throat, his face growing red. ‘If I’ve done something to—’

‘—Francis,’ James interrupted, looking up at him with big, brown eyes, ‘You haven’t done anything wrong. I’m—I don’t know if you’ve noticed, or have known all this time or, or whatever but I—’ He faltered, grimacing at his own incapacity to get the words out.

Francis reached out for his hands, taking them both in his own and stroking his thumbs over the knuckles. ‘You can tell me, James. I won’t judge. Not me.’

James blinked furiously, finding his eyes wet and filling with tears. ‘I’m gay, Francis. And I—I think I love you, furiously. In fact I’m sure of it.’ He looked at Francis, who could only blink. _This is it. He’s going to be disgusted, think me a freak. He won’t want anything to do with me. I should have just left it alone, not said anything and keep him as a friend._ But his hands remained firmly around James’.

‘I—’ Francis uttered, ‘—You’re being serious?’

James frowned, confused. ‘No. I’m only joking. Jeez, Francis,’ anger was seeping into his voice now, ‘it’s not like I’m confessing perhaps the most important thing of my life. Of course I’m serious!’ He pulled his hands back, shaking his head.

‘No—No! I didn’t mean—Not like that! James…’ Francis grimaced at his own stupidity. ‘Please, let me—let me explain.’

James sighed, ‘It better be a hell of an explanation, then.’

‘I—’ Francis started, feeling his throat close up. He pulled his hands back, realizing he was still holding them out in front of him, empty. ‘I did have my suspicions, I saw the rainbow flag pinned to your shirt, that first shift. I couldn’t care less about your sexuality. Well, I do, but only because it—it concerns me as well.’

‘It _concerns_ you?’ James said incredulously, crossing his arms. He couldn’t believe his own ears.

‘James, please! Listen—I beg you,’ Francis ran his hands over his face. He was making an awful mess of it, wasn’t he? ‘It concerns me because—because—’

‘Oh just spit it out, Francis.’

‘Because I love you!’ Francis yelled. There, it was out.

James’ features slackened, the angry scowl easing into a softer expression of surprise. ‘You…’

‘I love you,’ Francis repeated, looking up at him with pleading, red-rimmed eyes.

‘Oh God,’ James murmured. ‘But—You’re—Sophia—’ He lifted his hands to his face, pressing the heels of his palms to his closed eyes. ‘I’m so stupid.’

‘You’re not. James—’ Francis shoved his chair back and stood up, taking the two steps from his chair to James’, kneeling in front of him. ‘I love you,’ he said, taking James’ hands in his own. ‘I’ve been so stupid, James. I’ve acted like a right old fool, sneering at you and hating your guts, scolding your stupid stories and your pretty face. Truth is, I think I’ve been in love with you from the very start.’

‘I—’ James stammered, huffing a nervous laugh. ‘Oh for God’s sake, just bloody kiss me already.’

Francis grinned and cupped James face, pulling him down into a clumsy kiss.

***

They had spent some time watching a movie at James’ place to calm their remaining nerves a bit, neither of them really knowing how to continue now that they’d finally gotten their worries about the other man’s feelings off their chests.

James was snugly pressed up to Francis’ side, feeling the warmth of Francis’ arm around his shoulders seep through his clothes and onto his skin, warming him comfortably. Resting his head on Francis’ shoulder, he thought this was the most at peace he’d felt in a long while.

‘Would you stay?’

Francis turned his head to find James looking up at him with bright, big brown eyes. ‘Hmm?’

‘Would you stay?’ James repeated, ‘Tonight?’

A spot of colour made its way to Francis’ cheeks, a soft look washing over him. ‘I don’t have anything with me.’

‘You can just use my stuff, I don’t mind. I always have an extra toothbrush laying around in the cabinets, just in case.’

Francis bit the inside of his cheek, considering. ‘What about nightclothes?’

James was silent for a moment as he realized his mistake. A mischievous grin curled his lips, ‘We could always sleep naked.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/kahootqueen69) :)


	7. A Stop At The Traffic Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter! Hope you enjoy this one, cheers lads! ;)

_Two years later_

‘Last one for tonight, guys,’ Jopson’s voice echoed through their receiver. ‘Elderly lady who’s cut her finger, so nothing serious, but she’s a little worried because she takes some blood thinners for medication.’

‘Thanks Tom, we’ll head over right away,’ James replied, putting the receiver back in its place. He tapped some things on the screen and turned back to Francis with a grin. ‘Can’t believe it’s been so long already.’

‘What?’ Francis turned, looking a bit confused.

‘Since you stormed out of the office because Sophia told you I’d be your new trainee,’ James grinned.

‘Oh,’ Francis blushed, not being able to hold back a small grin of his own.

‘One of the best nights of my life, seeing as it set… _certain things_ …in motion.’

‘Worst night of mine,’ Francis chuckled.

‘Oi!’ James laughed, smacking his hand lightly to Francis’ chest.

Francis smiled back at him, the tooth gap that James has come to love so much peeking out just slightly. After a little while of companionable silence they rounded the corner, when Francis spoke again, serious this time. ‘Heads up, we’re almost there.’

***

‘What’s happened to you, then, darling?’ James exclaimed when the lovely old lady opened the door for them. ‘Let’s take a look at that, hm?’ He nodded to her heavily bandaged finger when she led them through to the living room to sit.

‘Afraid I cut myself when I was making an early breakfast,’ she said. ‘I’m just worried because of the pills they have me take.’

‘Well that’s perfectly alright, isn’t it?’ James said, looking towards Francis over his shoulder with an arched eyebrow and the hint of a smile, who replied with a nod and a reassuring smile. He kneeled down in front of her and set down his bag, taking her hand in his. ‘Let’s take this off first and we’ll see what we can do,’ James said, carefully removing the cloth she’d wrapped around her finger.

‘Looks like it’s about to fall off,’ Francis joked at seeing the small cut on her finger. ‘Think we’ll have to rush you to hospital and suture it back on,’ he chuckled, earning him a laugh from the woman.

‘Francis you arse,’ James chuckled. He turned back around to face the older lady and grinned. ‘Don’t mind him, he’s an idiot.’

‘Now, now,’ Francis protested with a grin, but didn’t finish the sentence.

James took a clean bandage and some disinfectant and lightly dabbed the wound while Francis measured her blood pressure and listened to her breathing. ‘It does seem to be bleeding a bit more than usual because of your blood thinners, but I don’t think we need to take you in. What say you, Francis?’

Francis took a look over the woman’s shoulder, inspecting the wound from a distance as James let the blood flow for a moment before dabbing it away so he could see the cut clearly. ‘Mmnn… No, I should think not. We can treat it here just fine, I don’t think it’ll bleed for that much longer even with the pills you’re taking.’

‘Hear that? You’ll be just fine, madam.’

James kept wiping the trickle of blood away until it started to slowly clot together, lessening the amount that poured from the wound. Francis watched with a fond look as James put some steri-strips on it to keep the parted skin tucked together before wrapping some bandaging around the woman’s finger. As he finished up tending to her, Francis made her a sandwich and some tea for the breakfast she’d intended to made, leaving her well set for the day.

‘Thank you so much, you’ve been so kind as to come all this way,’ she called gratefully from her doorway as they made their way back to the ambulance.

‘No problem at all, madam. It was a pleasure!’ James smiled, giving her a pat on the shoulder.

‘You make a great team, you two. Truly.’

James looked over his shoulder to Francis as they shared a knowing look, knowing just how much of a team they were on multiple areas.

***

Francis yawned as they stopped in front of a traffic light, waiting for the light to turn green and continue their way back to the garage. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the song that was playing on the radio, keeping his eyes firmly set on the lights.

‘Bit tired, are we?’ James grinned lightly.

Francis scoffed, ‘I’m not as young as you are, James. I tire a bit more easily. Wait and see until you reach my age, hm?’

James quirked an eyebrow, humming as he pursed his lips. ‘Now, now.’ He turned the rest of his long limbs over in his seat towards Francis. ‘What if I told you I know just the thing.’

‘Do you, now?’ Francis replied with a humorous, not quite believing look on his face.

‘Mmn,’ James hummed, slipping his hand over on Francis’ lap, running his fingers up and down his thigh.

‘James…’

James raised his brow again, his tongue darting out to wet his lips that curled into a seductive grin. Francis swallowed audibly as James ran his hand up his leg towards his crotch, giving his thigh a firm squeeze as he leaned over and nibbled on his earlobe.

‘ _Jeames,_ ’ Francis warned again, though his voice was thick with his Irish brogue as it always was when he wanted James.

James moaned softly as he nipped kisses to the hinge of Francis’ jaw, palming Francis’ rapidly hardening prick through his trousers and rubbing him down, swallowing the moan that escaped Francis’ lips in a kiss. He took quick care of Francis’ belt and zipper and wormed his hand into his underpants, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the head before he pulled him out. Francis hissed through his teeth at James’ maddening touches and the cool night—or morning, at this point—air, biting his lip to prevent another, rather too loud, moan from leaving his mouth. James released his prick for a moment, letting it flop back against Francis’ belly as it was fully hard and aching now, and raised his hand to spit in his palm. Francis watched him in awe with a slack jaw and threw his head back against the headrest of his seat as he felt the warmth and wetness of James’ hand return around his shaft and slicked it with spit.

‘Oh, Christ…!’ He uttered in a thick voice.

James watched him through his lashes with a soft, admiring look, as Francis’ face flushed into a lovely red colour, knowing it was his doing that made it so. What Francis hadn’t expected, however, was that James leaned in and down, closing his lips around the head of his prick that was already starting to gain an angry red colour in anticipation. Francis muttered a strangled series of curses as James went down on him, pressing his lips to his shaft in the most teasing manner.

Just at that moment, their receiver crackled to life and Jopson’s voice rang out. ‘Sorry to disturb, I’m sure you’re all tired and ready to get home, but I just wanted to wish you a good night! Or morning, actually.’

Francis cursed again as he picked up the receiver, forced to give him a reply as James kept bobbing his head up and down on his prick. ‘Ah—Thank you, Tom. You too—’ he managed to grind out, thinking he did alright considering the circumstances.

‘Francis? Are you quite alright?’

 _Fuck._ ‘Yes, fine—Urgh..!—Bye.’ _Oh, God. Please don’t comment on that awful sound. Please don’t com—_

‘Well alright, then. See you.’

 _Thank God._ Francis let out a whimpering moan and grabbed James’ hair as he felt his hand close around the base of his prick and give him a generous squeeze as he went down on him again. _That fucking traffic light sure is taking its time,_ he thought as he felt the tip of his prick hit the back of James’ throat and wasn’t able to contain a loud, sighing moan. James’ lips rubbing up and down over his spit-slicked cock were making the most obscene sounds, only turning Francis on further and further, uttering sweet words of encouragement to him as he knotted his hand tighter in James’ hair, not quite guiding or forcing, but just holding him. Each time James went up again, he curled his tongue around Francis’ prick in just the way he knew Francis loved, licking just under the rim of the head and suckling the pre-cum from his tip. James popped off only once to take a big couple of gulps of air, a thin string of spit linking his lips to Francis’ twitching cock. Francis watched him with parted lips and cupped his face, pulling him up into a searing kiss and licking into his mouth, tasting himself on James’ tongue, while James continued to work him over with his fist. Swallowing all of Francis’ sweet moans and keening little noises, James kept up a brutal pace working him over with his hand, brushing his thumb over the tip with each move upwards and squeezing the base of his shaft with each stroke down, letting Francis thrust up into his fist as he desired.

James listened intently to the sounds Francis made and as his words turned into muttered nonsense, knowing Francis was nearing his climax. He parted their kiss for a little longer, licking over Francis’ trembling bottom lip. ‘Come for me, darling,’ he whispered against Francis’ lip.

A wicked, seducing little smile curled James’ lips as he kissed him again while Francis moaned loudly into it, his hips stuttering up into James’ fist a final time before he came, spending himself over James’ hand. James let go of his lips, leaving Francis panting as the last drags of his release trickled down his prick and James’ hand, who kept stroking him through his orgasm. ‘Beautiful thing,’ James murmured, ‘coming for me so prettily, like a dainty little thing.’ He leaned back down over Francis’ lap to slowly, elegantly, lick the semen from his softening prick. He was just about to lick his own hand clean when Francis stopped him, grabbing his wrist to bring it up to his mouth and lick a long path over his palm and the back of his hand, moving on to put his fingers in his mouth, sucking his fingers off one by one. James could only watch with parted lips and hooded eyes, the tip of his tongue peeking out as he wet them.

After Francis had licked James’ hand clean he pressed a kiss to his knuckles, and let it go. ‘You’re a dirty little thing,’ he murmured in that thickness his voice always took on after he’d spent his climax, as James tucked him back into his trousers, making sure he looked presentable once more.

‘Mmn, you make me,’ James murmured in return with a cheeky grin, shifting as he felt his own interest hard and twitching in his trousers.

Finally, the traffic light turned green, and Francis continued their drive back to the garage with shaky legs. ‘You’re coming back to my place, I have unfinished business with you,’ he growled as he threw James a sideways look, grinning in that awful way Francis did that always turned James on.

A small, high-pitched sound formed itself in the back of James’ throat as he felt himself leaking in anticipation, leaning in to nip a mark just above Francis’ collar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say a massive, big thank you to everyone who followed this story through, and for those of you who left wonderful comments that really kept me motivated to go on posting this fic! (Especially you, [burningfreeze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/burningfreeze/pseuds/burningfreeze))
> 
> Also a huge thank you to my friend [My_Wildflower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Wildflower/pseuds/My_Wildflower) for keeping me company while I wrote this story and live suggestions, and to my friend [blumpfinchen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blumpfinchen/pseuds/blumpfinchen) for beta reading the entirety of it :) You guys helped a lot and I coulnd't have done it without you <3
> 
> As blumpfinchen said after finishing it: I'd like to think the old lady is the same from earlier in the story ;)
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/kahootqueen69) :)


End file.
